


East of Eden

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley's Name is Crawly (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Feels, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 17:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Crawly can't stop thinking about the angel of the Eastern Gate





	East of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> When it comes to Crawly vs Crawley, my beta and I were debating this point each certain we were correct until we sent pictures of our respective books (Crawly in the novel, Crawley in the script book). This is the sort of minutia that causes religious schisms. 
> 
> In this case, we both shrugged and I asked Twitter and God, err Neil Gaiman. Like God's plan, the answer is at the moment still ineffable. Will update if I receive an answer, cosmic or mundane. In the meantime, I've gone with the old testament, I mean the novel.
> 
> Besides, my beta is usually right.

Somewhere to the east of Eden Crawly looked back at the empty white walls shimmering like a mirage in the desert. Crawly felt an odd emptiness. He shouldn’t miss an angel, but there was something about him. _Aziraphale_. The feel of the letters nearly burned his tongue, as if to even speak an angel’s name was more than his demonic nature could bear.

And yet the shelter of that white wing had given him a comfort he hadn’t felt in an age. Not since falling and sulphur and pain and his own wings had charred to black.

Shaking his head, Crawly slipped back into the form of a snake and plunged into the earth. Best to forget him. Not as if he’d ever see him again. 

Though maybe giving away the sword like that… perhaps he’d be sticking around Earth. Crawly wondered if he could come back to these humans himself. Surely there was more tempting to be done.

**

Hell was more than pleased with his work, of course. It was easy enough to talk his way back to Earth. After the garden, he found Hell claustrophobic and crowded. Too dark and dingy, too tinged by fear and pain. The Earth was still new and wide, the skies bright and full of the stars he’d once held in his hands.

It was after that nasty business with Cain and Abel that he encountered Aziraphale again. The angel was looking out over the valley where the first people had settled, sorrow on his face. Crawly hesitated, knowing he should be anywhere but here, but feeling drawn all the same.

Before he could make himself leave, Aziraphale turned towards him. The sadness flashed to anger and he stalked towards Crawly, wings flaring out behind him. “_You_. You did this.”

“I did not!” Crawly squeaked. He cleared his throat, “I did not,” he repeated, voice back to normal. “They did it themselves.”

“Them… how am I supposed to believe that?” demanded Aziraphale, glancing back at the tiny settlement. “You’re a demon. You lie.”

“Not to you,” said Crawly, before he could catch the words back.

Aziraphale blinked. His face softened, the thunderstorm passing from his eyes.

Crawly looked at him, still half expecting to be struck down. Aziraphale took a step towards him. Crawly turned on his heel and fled in a flash of dark wings.

**

Stupid. _Stupid_. A demon could get in a lot of trouble for interacting with an angel. And yet he found he couldn’t stay away. 

Despite watching him from a distance, he didn’t try to talk to Aziraphale again until Noah. Crawly was angry. It was unfair to punish all these people the way God was. But asking questions of the Almighty was part of what got him booted in the first place.

Aziraphale explained as best he could, but Crawly could see he was no happier about the situation than he was. 

**

After the waters subsided, they continued to meet from time to time, both of them more or less sticking to this same part of the world, as if they were still tethered to the place where they had met. Sometimes there were snatches of conversation, sometimes there was only a nod of acknowledgment. But every encounter continued to prove that Aziraphale was the most interesting angel Crawly had ever met.

**

More than two thousand years after the garden, Crawly was again somewhere east of Eden, resting for the night under a blanket of stars. Aziraphale suddenly stepped out from behind a rock and regarded him. Crawly froze as he was pierced by the angel’s gaze.

“You’ve been watching me,” said Aziraphale.

Crawly had once said that he couldn’t lie to Aziraphale and it was still true. “Yes.” 

Aziraphale moved closer. “May I join you?” he asked politely.

“Sure,” said Crawly. He offered him his wineskin. “Drink?”

Aziraphale hesitated, then sat and took it. “Thank you.”

Crawly gave him a small smile and watched him take a swig. He shifted a little closer and took it back.

Aziraphale looked at him and moved closer himself. They were nearly knee to knee. “We shouldn’t,” he said quietly.

Crawly wanted to ask what they shouldn’t, but Aziraphale was nearly touching him and he’d never stopped thinking about the shelter of his wing, not in two thousand years time. Never stopped thinking about his laughter, never stopped thinking about the angel so uncertain he was doing the right thing, but doing it all the same.

“I keep thinking about you,” admitted Aziraphale, turning his gaze to the night sky and unknowingly echoing his thoughts. “But you’re a demon and I’m an angel.”

“Observant of you,” said Crawly, taking a swig himself.

Silence grew between them as the stars wheeled slowly overhead. Crawly wondered if they were being watched by above or below. Aziraphale turned his gaze back towards him and he suddenly did not care one iota if they were.

Aziraphale inched closer still. Out of some protective instinct, Crawly loosened his wings and shielded the angel in much the same way as Aziraphale had once shielded him. Aziraphale smiled, nearly pressing against his side. “I’ve been watching the humans.”

Crawly blinked. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale took the wineskin from his hand and set it aside. “Have you ever kissed anyone Crawly?”

That was certainly not a combination of words Crawly had expected to come out of an angel’s mouth, not even this one.

“No,” he said. “Not generally that kind of demon. Besides, well, _humans_. And I’m certainly not going to go around kissing Hastur or anything.” He wrinkled his nose at the very thought, taken completely out of the moment.

Aziraphale reached up to cup his cheek, bringing his focus back. “I find I rather want to kiss you,” he said, almost bashful.

Crawly wrapped his wings a little tighter around them both, heart skipping around in his chest like a particularly pleased rabbit.

In all the time he’d been circling Aziraphale he’d never allowed himself to imagine this. He’d thought of maybe sitting with the angel, having conversations, spending a little time together. But never this. How could he have dared?

Watching Aziraphale’s face, he nodded. 

Aziraphale smiled softly, guiding him towards his lips. Crawly’s eyes closed, as if his body knew better what to do than he did. Aziraphale’s lips caressed his and he relaxed. The glimpse of home and safety he’d felt under Azirphale’s wing was magnified a thousandfold.

Crawly sighed as he slowly pulled away. They tilted their foreheads together, both breathing heavily.

“You’re right, said Crawly at last. “We shouldn’t.”

Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him again, the sweetness turning to ash as he pulled away and got to his feet, stepping out of the circle of Crawly’s wings.

“I’m sorry,” said Aziraphale. “If _they_ found out… they could destroy you.” 

“I don’t care,” said Crawly, watching him, noticing dawn just starting to color the sky.

Aziraphale paced, agitated. “I’ve seen you watching me and I wanted… I want… It’s too dangerous,” he said, glancing skyward and then down again.

Crawly stayed where he was, suddenly tired. Perhaps he should be angry. Aziraphale had been the one who started it, after all. But he wasn’t upset. Instead, he ached to take Aziraphale in his arms and hold him, tell him that it would be all right, though he could make no such promise. Slowly he got to his feet, hiding his wings again.

Aziraphale stopped pacing and looked at him. “Crawly.”

“I know, angel,” he said.

Aziraphale looked at him a moment longer, and then this time he was the one who fled, hurrying off through the rocks. 

Crawly turned and faced the rising sun. Eventually, Aziraphale would be back, or he would go to Aziraphale. They were binary stars, locked in orbit. And he knew a fair bit about stars, or used to.

If there was one ounce of kindness in the universe, then maybe one day they could be together, without fear, side by side where they belonged.

Crawly brought his fingers to his lips, tongue darting out to memorize the lingering taste. He glanced skyward. “I do hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered at God, then turned and headed off in the other direction.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to astudyinfic for reading along and for beltainefaerie for the beta
> 
> You can find me on twitter and tumblr at merindab


End file.
